I Don't Believe in Fairies
by Edna Baudelaire
Summary: Peter/OC. The clock has started ticking again and Peter Pan is no longer a child. He returns to earth, in a desperate attempt to right this wrong. Along the way, he stumbles upon Ivy, a dreamer who shares the same way of thinking.
1. 1 The Beginning

I _Don't_ Believe in Fairies

By: Kelly

Chapter One: The Beginning

Ivy's POV

My chewed up Number Two pencil furiously scribbled along the last page of my exam as my eyes darted back and forth, back and forth. My desk groaned in protest as I swiftly changed my position. I could hear the clock teasing me; tick tock, tick tock. Was it just me, or does the clock seem to be in fast forward? Someone next to me cleared their throat.

Mr. DeMarc stood silently at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, looking smug.

"Two minutes left," He said. I gasped and wrote faster. It seemed to be getting harder and harder to breathe. I could feel the sweat dripping down my neck.

Exams. Every student's worst nightmare. And these weren't just any exams. These were my _senior year_ exams. This exam would determine my success or failure. One wrong move and I'll end up working in McDonalds for my entire life. If I flunked this, all my dreams will never come true.

"One minute remaining." A whimper almost escaped my lips. Has it really been that long? A whole minute, _wasted_. My eyes frantically scanned the pages, searching for errors. I erased numerous sentences and bubbled in answers, only to smooth out the page, panic, and then write the same thing over again.

"Times up. Pencils down. Please pass your exams forward and you may leave." I froze. A sigh of contempt found its way out of my lungs as I slowly set my pencil down. I glanced across the room to my friends Cecilia and Lysander. At the same time, they flashed me identical smiles and two thumbs up.

I sank into my metal desk chair, exhausted. After passing my paper up, I shakily shoved textbooks back into my torn up book bag. My fellow classmates slowly left the room. Cecilia bounded over towards me.

"So..." She said, biting her lip. "How do you think you did?"

"Horrible!" I threw my hands up. "I completely screwed up the math section! For some idiotic reason, I thought x times x was 2x! Gosh I'm such an idiot!" Cecilia took a seat upon my desk and I angrily shoved pens and paper into my book bag, pell-mell.

"Well we all knew you'd fail math anyways." She smiled. It took a second before my frown was unwillingly wiped from my face. I giggled.

"True," I said. "Although I don't think I did too badly on the reading and writing sections. History was easy, as always. And as for science...well, lets just say I don't think I'm going to fulfill a life in chemistry any time soon." As I stood up, Lysander appeared and resided by Cecilia's side.

I smiled at my two best friends. Cecilia and Lysander Ramona have been my best friends since grade school. They were the outcasts because they were twins and did everything alike and wore the same clothes and had the same hairstyle. They were an easy target for popular kids. So was I. There I was, little 6 year old me, wearing my sisters hand-me-downs, sitting in a corner in the classroom, sobbing because Stacy Brown stole my chocolate milk. Then, like superheroes, Lysander and Cecilia took me under their wing. We were never the richest or the hottest kids at school. We weren't popular but we weren't nerds. We really didn't have a clique at all. As we progressed through school, yes, we talked to the popular kids and the nerds and the jocks and the freaks and the druggies and the goths, but it's not like we were ever invited to any party's or anything. It was just the three of us. But that's how we liked it.

"So, how'd you do, Lysander?" I asked, beaming. He grinned back.

"Not too bad," He said. "Better than Cecilia, anyways." Her jaw dropped. Lysander let out a small yelp as she punched him in the arm.

"We all know that _I'm _the smarter twin," She said as she pointed to herself. Lysander smiled as he gently rubbed his arm. He mumbled something about "hitting like a man" as he shuffled back to his seat to grab his book bag.

"Ready to go?" Cecilia asked. I took one last look around the classroom. Memories flowed into my mind like a river. Lysander, Cecilia and I shooting paper balls at the back of Stacy Brown's platinum blonde head; the textbook fight we had one day after school in tutoring when Mr. DeMarc left to use the "Lavatory"; all the numerous projects we partnered up on; the chocolate milk chugging contest...

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said as I stood up. I nodded quickly to Mr. DeMarc as I made my way towards to the door.

"Its kind of sad," Lysander said as he stood in the middle of the room. "We're done with High School. We'll never see this room again." Mr. DeMarc looked at us, annoyed.

"What do you mean 'never see this room again'?" Mr. DeMarc barked. Lysander rolled his eyes.

"Well, you see Mr. DeMarc, the three of us are seniors," He said in a voice one would use while talking to an impatient 3 year old. "There are four years to High School and after the last year, we graduate and—"

"I bloody well know that you are graduating, Ramona!" Mr. DeMarc shouted. Mr. DeMarc and Lysander don't really have a healthy past. Lysander took up the role of class clown when Anthony Gerard left two years ago. By doing this, the three of us traveled a little farther up the popularity ladder but in the teacher's eyes, we are just as bad as the druggies and trouble makers. Of course, Lysander is the class clown, but who do you think helps him with all the pranks? That's right. I've been caught red-handed many times trying to help Lysander get a laugh.

Anyways, Mr. DeMarc has _loathed_ Lysander ever since the "toupee" incident.

"What I mean is," Mr. DeMarc's face was red with anger. "You haven't heard the announcements that have been playing in the morning for the past two weeks?" Lysander blinked and shook his head.

"I should have known," said Mr. DeMarc as he sat down, smugness written all over his bulbous face. "You never listen to the announcements. You always sit in the back with your 'posse', never paying attention!" Lysander smiled at this, as if he was proud.

"What did the announcements say?" I asked, politely. Whatever is was, it wasn't good news and I would rather not get on Mr. DeMarc's bad side if my predictions were true.

"You still have two more weeks of school." Cecilia and Lysanders jaws dropped. I cursed under my breath, mad at myself for even thinking up that prediction.

"Shut up!" Cecilia cried. Mr. DeMarc looked taken aback.

"One night detention for you, Miss Ramona." Mr. DeMarc yelled. Cecilia shut her mouth. "The seniors need two more weeks of school to meet their quota. We have had too many snow days and inconvenient school cancellations for you all to graduate just yet. Just two more weeks of seeing your faces and I'll be done with you forever." His eyes glazed over in a dreamy state. The three of us took this time to hurry out of the room.

"Two more weeks of school!" Lysander shouted.

"I got detention," Cecilia cooed softly.

"A whole two weeks!"

"Detention," said Cecilia.

"This sucks"

"What's mom going to say when she learns I have detention when school was supposed to be out?" Lysander winced dramatically.

"I'll stay in my room for that one."

All the teachers love Cecilia (Except Mr. DeMarc). She's only had detention twice this entire school year and has always been terrified of it. Lysander and I, on the other hand, are very used to it.

We walked side by side as we made our way home, huge burdens resting above our heads. The thought of two more weeks of school brought down my mood. I looked over at Lysander and Cecilia, who walked in step, the same depressed looks inebriated upon their faces. Cecilia's golden brown locks bobbed up and down around her face. Her bright blue eyes stared at the ground. I could tell she was formulating a plan in her head, trying to make up a conversation starter that would make detention sound not-so-bad. Lysander was fuming. During the last month of school, I could see him yearning for it to be over. I could tell he wanted to start his future, even though he didn't know what he wanted to be yet.

The sad thing is, neither did I. I've considered many professions, ranging from florist to a flight attendant. The best idea I had yet, is to be a drama teacher. I have loved the performing arts ever since I was little. Although lately, I've taken a liking to writing. The little kid inside of me didn't want me to pick a profession. It wanted to stay a kid forever. I wasn't ready to grow up.

The back of my neck prickled uncomfortably, as if someone was watching me. I snapped my head around, searching for the pair of eyes I felt stabbing into my back. Nothing. Tree's whipped in the wind and the bushes remained silent. Not a soul was outside. I ignored it and kept walking.

I said my usual goodbye as we arrived at the fork in the road. I gave a bear hug to a worried looking Cecilia.

"Don't worry," I said, rubbing her back. "You'll be fine. Your mother knows what a jerk DeMarc is." She smiled. I turned around to give Lysander a hug. He swept me up in his arms and I giggled.

"I just thought of a great prank," He whispered in my ear. "One that will put us on the map." He squeezed me a little tighter before we broke apart. I blushed.

"We're graduating soon. Don't you think it's a little late to get on the map?" I asked.

"Better late than never." He smiled as he turned around, and made his way home with Cecilia. My body still felt warm where his had been only moments before. I looked forward to his hugs everyday. I've had a school-girl crush on Lysander since the 5th grade, when he kissed me on the cheek on Valentine's Day. Then he shoved a chocolate heart in my face. I smiled, reminiscing. I've always been too scared to tell anyone about my crush on Lysander. I haven't even told Cecilia, who I tell _everything_ to. I'm scared that if I do, it would ruin our friendship. And besides, I wouldn't have the courage to.

I sighed and continued walking, my mind wandering to Lysander. I couldn't help but grin. The memories I had with him always made me chuckle. I arrived home with an image of Lysander in my mind and the feeling of being watched hovering over me.

Please review! It would really mean a lot to me.

I've been meaning to write a Peter fanfic for a while and decided to do it on a whim, so enjoy!

Kelly

Peace


	2. 2 Peeping Peter

I _Don't_ Believe in Fairies

By: Kelly

Chapter Two: Peeping Peter

Peter's POV

Her golden brown hair flowed in the light breeze as she walked past. Immediately, I knew she was the one. The one that would help me. I looked down at my hands, disgusted. They had lost their boyishness. Instead, they were coarse and grown-up. I felt my chin, which instead of being round, was now hard and stony. I looked back at the girl, who walked with her head down. Her two friends rambled, but she wasn't listening.

Her head turned, her eyes met mine, but she didn't see me. The bush I resided in hid me well. She had stopped walking, her emerald green eyes searching. Her shoulders rose a little as she gave up, and started walking again.

I sprinted from tree, to bush, to tree, following them. I had to get her alone. I had to tell her my dilemma. Somehow, I knew she would make it all better.

They had reached a fork in the road and she immediately hugged one of her friends, patting her on the back. Then she turned towards a boy, who swept her up. The smile on her face was genuine and beautiful. I found myself grinning, just watching her laugh.

He whispered something in her ear and her smile faltered. Before anyone had a chance to notice, her grin was back. Her two friends left and my window of opportunity opened.

She walked alone, her hands swinging by her sides like a pendulum. I walked out from behind the tree, with every intent to call out to her. Before I could, my cheeks started burning. I ran back to my hiding place. My hand reached up to my cheek, which was hot. My heart beat quickly. I felt ashamed.

But what would I have said to her? How would I tell her? Does she know what's happening? She must, she's the one person that can help me.

With that, I left my hiding spot. I caught a slight glimpse of her back before she disappeared into a house. I silently cursed to myself as I tiptoed up to the front door. Should I knock? What if she had family home? Only she must see me. For now.

I ran around to the backyard, searching for a window that would more than likely be hers. I spotted it. Bright blue and green curtains caught my eye.

_I'll be a child forever_, I thought. With that, my feet left the ground. I slowly rose, level with the window. Inside, posters littered the walls and books, _so many books_, were strewn across the floor. At that moment, she entered the room. She let out a huge sigh as she threw her book bag on her floor and flopped onto her bed. She lay there for a moment, just breathing. I watched her chest rise and fall as her eyes closed. I leaned in closer to get a better look.

_BANG! _Pain coursed through my veins as I clutched my elbow. The loud echo reverberated off the glass, causing the girl to sit straight up. Before she was able to meet my eyes, I quickly flew higher, to the roof. I heard her feet shuffle over to the window and a subtle squeak as she opened it.

"Hello?" She called out, her voice shaking. I remained where I was, terrified of approaching her. My cheeks felt hot again.

She sighed and closed the window. I slowly drifted down, making sure to take a quick peek, to see if she was looking. Thankfully, she wasn't. She was walking around the room, picking up articles of clothing.

Suddenly, she removed her jacket and started to take off her shirt. I gasped and quickly turned around. My cheeks were on fire. The desire to turn around and watch was overwhelming. I couldn't let myself do it.

_I'm just a boy_, I thought. _This is for grown ups_. I crossed my arms, refusing to watch the girl undress. Then, without my knowledge, I swung around. Her bra was black and lacy. She was slowly shimmying out of her jeans. A weird sensation rose up in my stomach.

Suddenly, her head flew up and her eyes met mine. Before I even had time to react, she was screaming and I was falling. I didn't even register what was happening before my head hit the ground and I blacked out.

Please please PLEASE review!

Kelly

Peace


	3. 3 Too Young to be a Felon

I _Don't_ Believe in Fairies

By: Kelly

Chapter Three: Untitled

I froze. Every nerve in my body refused to move. I had paused, half-pant less with my head looking straight out the window. This time, I was sure of it. I was sure I saw those two eyes that I had felt on the back of my neck all day. Fear rose up in my body like vomit.

Whoever it is was watching me undress. I shivered at the thought. I almost cried at the thought of being stalked.

I looked again at the window, my fear quickly transforming into wonder. How did this stalker get to my second story window? Breaking out of my trance, I stumbled towards it. I clumsily opened it and looked down.

And that's when I spotted him.

That's when I spotted the beginning of this adventure.

It was a _boy_.

_And_ he wasn't moving.

I gasped as I hastily pulled my jeans up and quickly did the zipper and what seemed like 100 buttons. After I deemed myself decent, I fled downstairs and out the backdoor, dialing Cecilia's number on the way.

_Pick up, pick up!_ I thought. Millions of thoughts raced through my head. _Is he alive? Is he dead? If he's dead, will I get framed for murder? I can't go to jail! I'm too young to be a felon!_

As I reached the boys body, Cecilia's voice rang through the receiver.

"Ivy?" She asked.

"Cecil!" I screamed. "There was a _boy_! At my _window_! And he _fell_! I don't want to go to jail! I'm no _felon_! Do I look like a felon to you? Will you visit me in jail?"

"Whoa! Ivy, calm down. Of course I would visit you in jail, silly. But seriously, what's going on?"

"There was a boy, at my window. Watching me."

Pause.

"And then I saw him. And then he fell."

Silence.

"And I think he's dead!" I lamely tried to avoid the tears, but they poured out anyways. I sobbed into the phone, the reality of what just happened weighing in heavily on my mind.

"Cecil, I don't know what to do! He's here right now! What if he's dead? Please, help me!"

"OK, hang on Ivy. Here's Lysander. He'll fix it." Cecilia said in a worried tone. I sank to my knees beside the boy and wiped my face on my sleeve.

"Ivy? Ivy, are you there? What's going on?" His voice rang through my ears.

"'Sander! Please come over. Now!"

"Why, what's going on! Cecilia won't say anything. Why are you crying?"

"Just please get here! Now!" I hung up the phone. I don't understand why I couldn't explain it to Lysander. Oh, well. He'll see it for himself when he gets here. I set the phone at my side as I examined the boy with shaky hands. On impulse, I checked for a pulse. My breathe slowed as I leaned forward, desperately searching. I gave a sigh of relief as I found one. It was weak, but it was still there.

_I'm not going to jail!_ I thought. I looked at the boys face. Sleeping, he looked angelic and innocent. His dirty blonde locks were littered with leaves and twigs, and what was most peculiar, was that he was not wearing any clothes.

Don't get me wrong, he was not _naked_. He was covered, but just with something that looked like a leotard made with leaves. The word "sick-o" echoed in my mind.

He was filthy, covered in dirt. His eyebrows drew close together, as if he was having a bad dream. He tried to turn over in his sleep, but winced at the pain. He remained sleeping.

I looked over to his left arm, which was definitely broken. I felt the bile rise up in my throat. I tried not to look at it.

The screech of car tires snapped me out of my trance. I heard two car doors slam and the pounding of footsteps.

"Ivy!" Lysander yelled as he spotted me. "Holy shi-"

"What happened?" Cecilia shouted.

"He was at my window!" I exclaimed. "I was getting dressed and then I saw him! And then he fell and I raced out here and called you two. I don't know what to do guys. Should we call the police?"

"No!" Lysander and Cecilia said in unison.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Do you want to get in trouble?" Cecilia asked.

"No."

"His arm is broken. He could sue you. He's injured, on your property."

"But he was the one spying on me in the first place!"

"I understand," Lysander said as he stood me up and grabbed me into a hug. I hadn't realized that I had been shaking. "But it would be easier to not get wrapped up in police. Justice doesn't always prevail." His face went grim. I remember when he had to spend the night in jail for a prank he pulled in 10th grade. I also remember his face, which was filled with terror behind the bars.

"Alright, no police," I agreed. "But he'll have to be taken to the hospital for his arm. And then I never want to see this scumbag again."

"Alright, let's carry him to the car. I'll drive," Lysander said. We all bent down to pick up a portion of the boy. Lysander had his legs. Cecilia had the left side of his body. I had the right side, while I supported his head.

"Man, he's heavy," Lysander exclaimed.

"He looks about your age, 'Sander," Cecilia said. "And he weighs only a little more than you."

"You saying I'm fat?" Lysander challenged, only half-kidding.

"No, I'm just saying you have no room to talk." Cecilia said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Anyways, how did he get up to your window, Ivy? I didn't see a ladder." I was about to respond when the boy moaned. We stopped. His eyes fluttered open and he gasped.

And then the unthinkable happened.

_He flew_.


	4. 4 It's a Secret

I _Don't_ Believe in Fairies

By: Kelly

Chapter Four: It's a Secret

I don't know what happened. One minute, I saw three faces surrounding me, the next minute; I was in the air, furious pain traveling up my arm. They stared up at me, eyes as big as saucers. My breath caught in my throat.

"Oh my goodness," One girl said. "He's flying." I looked down. I _was_ flying. I slowly returned to the ground. The three of them stepped backward and the boy put his arms in front of the girls, in a protective manner. I tried to put my arms up, to say that I meant them no harm, but the pain in my left arm was unbearable. I looked down at it to find it sticking out at an odd angle.

My jaw dropped as I realized it was broken. The bile rose up in my throat. I completely forgot about the three strangers and the panic overwhelmed me.

You cannot blame me for what happened next. On earth, I may be around 17 years old, but inside, I was still a little boy. I sank to my knees and tears forced their way out of my closed eyes.

"Oh my..." I heard someone mutter.

"What should we do?"

I couldn't touch my arm, in fear it would break more. I didn't know what to do. I wanted help. And for the first time in my life, I wanted my mother.

"Boy," An angelic voice called out. "Why are you crying?" I heard footsteps coming closer.

"Ivy," The male hissed. The footsteps stopped.

"My arm," I moaned through the sobs. I felt a soothing hand on my shoulder, despite the male's protests.

"Let's get him to the hospital," She said. I felt a pair of strong arms pull me up as sobs racked my body.

"We need information." I heard someone say. "What is your name?"

"Peter," I managed to choke out.

"Peter. Peter what?"

"Pan."

"Peter Pan? Well that's a peculiar name."

"Who cares about his name. What _I _care about is why _he_ was at _your_ window, Ivy." A male voice said angrily. We started walking forward, but I kept my eyes closed, afraid to open them.

"Yes. Why were you at Ivy's window, boy?" A voice said irritably.

"Shhhh guys. Can't you tell he's terrified?" A voice cooed.

"Terrified? Damn right he should be. He got caught." The male replied. My entire body ached from the fall. It was taking two people to hold me up. "I'll ask you one more time, kid. Why were you at Ivy's window?"

"I-I..." I sobbed. "I have to talk to her."

"Have you not heard of knocking on a door?"

"How did you get up to the window?"

"And what was with that whole flying deal?!" We stopped moving.

"You flew," The male said. "Am I going crazy or did he fly?"

"No he flew."

"Yeah he definitely flew."

"Alright, where are the wires?" He said. "Is this some kind of magic trick gone awry?"

"No! I swear!" I cried. "I just need to talk to her!" My eyes flew open and I saw lush green grass. I avoided looking to the side, where my arm hung limp.

"What do you need to talk to me about?" She came into view, crouching on the ground in front of me. Her emerald green eyes gazed into mine, questioningly. She wasn't like the others, who stared at me with hostility. Her eyes were kind and inviting. Her lips were slightly parted. She looked up at me, awaiting an answer.

"It's a secret," I whispered.

"Oh, secret my ass!" The male shouted. "If you had the nerve to fly or levitate or whatever up to Ivy's window, then it must not have been that much of a secret!" He shifted my body which sent waves of pain rippling up my arm. I gasped and hung my head, not wanting my tears to be put on display.

"We can interrogate him later," Ivy said. "For now, let's just get him some help." They carried me into what looked like a metal carriage. They set me in the back next to Ivy and strapped me to the seat. I resisted at first, refusing to be trapped, but gave up as soon as the pain protested. I rested my head against the back of my seat as tall buildings and other metal carriages zoomed by.

My eyebrows furrowed. London looked very different. Where were the cobblestone streets? People were wearing odd clothes and the houses looked different, more sophisticated. There were things I've never seen in my life. Moving pictures displayed in shop windows and people talking into little boxes. What has happened to London?

I looked over at Ivy, who sat, her head slightly tilted as she stared out the window. The setting sun cast rays of light upon her face, playing with her features. I looked in the front seats, where the boy was driving, and another girl sat on his left side. The carriage smelled rather odd. It was a mixture of leather, metal and some kind of cheese.

Fear rose up inside of me. I had no idea where they were taking me and even if a fight awaited me at my destination, I was completely useless. Without my sword hand, I'm nothing.

"Where are you taking me?" I blurted out.

"The hospital, of course." Ivy said.

"Hospital?" I blinked stupidly. "Why?"

"Well, someone needs to fix your arm."

"Fix it?" I paused. "How are they going to fix it?"

"Well," She started, looking at her hands. "First they have to mend the bones and put them back together."

"Will it be painful?" I asked. She nodded.

I gulped.


	5. 5 Unexpected Danger

I _Don't_ Believe in Fairies

By: Edna B.

Chapter Five: Unexpected Danger

Ivy's POV

The universal Hospital symbol loomed in the distance as questions swirled about in my head. Who was this mysterious boy who was outside of my window? Is he good or bad?

The sound of Peter's whimpering snapped me out of my tranquil state. His eyes were wide open as he took in the scenes. His face registered terror.

"Hey Lysander, you wouldn't happen to have a spare shirt or something would you?" I asked. "I don't think the staff would take too kindly to a man dressed in leaves."

"What do I care if they 'take kindly' to him?" He asked as his knuckles gripped the steering wheel furiously. The anger emanating from him spread like wildfire throughout the car.

My mouth stayed shut for the remainder of the car ride. It's better not to irk Lysander when he gets like this. I closed my eyelids, letting the soft rays of the sun play across them like experienced hands upon dusty piano keys.

_What a day this has become_, I thought. _2 more weeks of school, detention, pedophilic boys dressed only in leaves...what more could possibly happen? _I felt the corners of my lips turn up.

"So Peter," Celia started. "Where are you from?" Peter blinked.

"Neverland."

"Neverland?" I inquired. "Where is that?"

"Second to the right, and straight on till morning," Peter replied, his chest swollen with pride.

"I don't get it. Is that somewhere in London?"

The car lurched and my eyes snapped open. I heart Peter curse silently next to me as he sucked in a harsh breath.

"What the hell was that, 'Sander? Easy on the brakes. Bessie's old, man," Celia complained as she adjusted her seatbelt.

"It's not my fault. Some dumbass dressed as a pirate just ran in front of the car." Peter froze.

"A pirate?" He asked, eyes alert.

"Yeah! A stinking pirate! What the hell was he think-"

"What was he wearing?" Peter demanded, leaning forward in his seat, searching. Lysander eyed him suspiciously.

"He's gone now, man. He had a red hat, and...I don't know. Pirate stuff. The feather in his hat. Sword on his belt. Hook for a hand-"

"Hook!" Peter screamed. "Go! Now!"

"What are you talking about, Peter?" I asked.

"That's Captain Hook. We need to get out of here _now_."


End file.
